Gratitude
by mvdiva
Summary: Hermione is on a mission to give Snape something he needs to have.


_My first foray in to the Harry Potter universe! My apologies - of course to all, but mostly to our beloved JKR for probably butchering two wonderful characters._

**Gratitude**

"Oh honestly Harry! You need to slice horizontally, not diagonally! Did you even DO last week's reading?"

The slightly shrill voice of Hogwart's finest sixth-year student stood out over the general murmur of the other students at work in the Potions classroom. Harry Potter winced and set his chopping knife down before glancing over at the orderly slices of Murtlap arranged on his friend's cutting board. He had just opened his mouth to respond that yes, he had done last week's reading and the lesson still made no sense when the dark presence of their professor swooped in from the back of the classroom. Despite having faced down He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and certain death several times, Harry still ducked his head to avoid Snape's piercing glare.

"Is there a problem here, Mr. Potter?"

On Harry's other side, he heard Ron gulp. The red head hadn't even been the subject of either Hermione's admonishment or Snape's scrutiny, but he still felt Harry's pain. Harry only had time to be grateful his best friends were with him - even ones who nagged him in class about homework that was boring and pointless - before Snape was upon them. Harry glanced quickly at Hermione, but her head was uncharacteristically down, and her hair hung thick enough to obscure her face from his view. Overhead, Snape's thick eyebrow crawled up the right side of his forehead until it almost disappeared into his greasy hairline.

"I'm waiting, Mr. Potter."

"No, Sir." Harry muttered. He bit his lip after that to hold back several other comments that threatened to escape. Ron edged closer and nudged him in the ribs, giving Harry a little wink of silent support. As much fun as a week's worth of detentions would be, he didn't respond again and at Snape's sigh of disappointment gave himself a mental pat on the back.

A moment of absolute silence fell while all his classmates held their breath in anticipation of hearing Snape draw breath to dole out the latest of Harry's punishments, but none came. Snape's glare rested on him a moment more before it swept over the rest of the class.

"It would be wise to ask questions if one does not understand the contents of the week's readings." Snape drawled at last. His eyes roamed over each face, and several flushed in embarrassment before turning their attention to their own cauldrons in an attempt to appear busy. "Understanding avoids unwanted results. Do I make myself clear?"

A soft sigh of assent came from all corners, and the great bat swept back to his desk at the head of the classroom, where he stayed until the end of the period.

As they were packing to leave, Hermione pulled a large stack of papers out of her bag and proceeded to order the pages of neat, tiny handwriting by shuffling them and humming under her breath to herself until Harry and Ron were both fidgeting with impatience.

"C'mon, 'Mione." Ron whined finally. "Isn't that something you can do later? It's lunchtime." As if in agreement, Harry's stomach gurgled loud enough for all three to hear. "Perfect timing, Harry!" Both boys laughed, and looked as one at Hermione. She smiled slightly, and gave them a shooing gesture towards the door.

"I'll just be a minute. I wanted to give Professor Snape this research I did on the possible use of salamander blood to strengthen the Blood Replenishing potion to create concentrated batches which..." She trailed off, noting the bored desperation on her friends' faces. "I'll catch up to you in the Great Hall." It was all Ron needed to hear, and he tossed her a little smile and a wave before dragging Harry out the door behind him.

Silence settled over the classroom. As soon as the door had shut, Hermione straightened up from the parchments and shoved them hastily back in her bag. The "research" in question were actually notes from last year's Muggle Studies class, and she was a bit put out that neither Ron or Harry had even thought to question her motives for hanging back in Snape's classroom. Even Harry's normally cautious scrutiny failed to catch the lie on her lips today. She sighed, and ran a hand through her unruly hair as she glanced around.

The Potions class stood empty. During the brief discussion with her two friends, Snape had managed to disappear - most likely back to his private office. She uttered a soft curse, and then blushed as she realized Ron's potty mouth had finally succeeded in rubbing off on her. Anyway, she was here for a hair-brained scheme all on her own. This was dangerous business. If she had half the brains that her head of house proclaimed, she would gather up her things and march out the door right now to join Ron and Harry in the Great Hall for lunch.

Hermione smiled ruefully to herself. This plan had already been set in motion. She was a Gryffindor - Courage was the backbone of her personality, regardless of whether or not Intelligence had any say was something to ponder later. And so, she smoothed damp hands over her robes and marched up to the large desk and prepared herself to wait.

Despite the nature of the Potions classroom, once one got used to the eccentricities of its various decorations, there was not much to look at. The blackboard had been wiped clean at the end of the day's lesson. Not even a speck of chalk remained to mar the dark, even surface. The silence of the space in its dungeon location gave her the slightest amount amount of forewarning before the door to Snape's office flew open and the man himself came through the doorway.

Obviously not expecting a student to stay a moment past the end of the class hour, he paused on seeing her standing in front of his desk. "Miss Granger?" His tone did not convey the usual dark sarcasm bordering on impatience, but rather a sense of unease which was so far removed from his normal character that when she opened her mouth to reply, no sound came out.

She watched the professor as he seemed to regain himself and begin again. "Miss Granger, I assume that whatever keeps you here can be explained quickly so you can quit my proverbial doorstep?"

Hermione winced. The ever-so eloquent tongue was back and as sharp as ever. "I apologize, Professor. My intention on remaining behind was simply to...thank you." Any further words she may have intended died in her throat as Snape's eyebrows first went up, and then down into one of the fiercest scowls she had ever seen on his face.

"Miss Granger," He began. "While I applaud your Slytherin-like attempts at trying to worm yourself into my good graces. I highly doubt that even your apparently considerable intelligence would blind you to the fact that this is a wasted opportunity of time better spent in the company of your witless fellow Gryffindors. Furthermore," He raised his chin in order to better look down his nose at her as he moved to stand on the other side of the imposing desk. "Forgive me if I fail to comprehend what effort of mine you consider so gratifying. My teaching efforts have apparently been only just enough to keep the current classes from blowing themselves and myself to high Heaven, and - "

"You know to which I'm referring, Professor." Hermione interjected, and braced herself for another torrent of bitter words and perhaps a detention or two. When no such threats came, she cleared her throat and continued. "While I do acknowledge that your teaching skills have instructed and kept us all safe from harm, that particular factor was not my primary intention, although I do consider myself grateful to learn from one of the best Potions minds in Britain."

Snape's lips were pursed into a thin line of extreme annoyance, but she surged ahead, more sure of herself now. "I refer, Professor, to your intelligence both in and out of the classroom, and your patience - " Here, he snorted. Hermione ignored him and continued. "And your courage." She forced herself to meet his gaze, and was privately delighted to see the annoyance change to some other emotion for a moment before he re-schooled his features into an impassive mask. "I thank you for all you do -for us...and for the Order." Her teeth caught on her lip for a moment in worry before she forged ahead again. "I feel privileged to know you, Professor, and I believe that you deserve to be thanked far more than you are."

Hermione forced herself not to fidget as she felt an honest smile spread on her face. Snape stood still as a statue behind the desk, save for the slight tremble of his right hand as he placed it on the back of his chair.

"Is...that all, Miss Granger?" His normally velvet voice was harsh to her ears, and she could only nod. "Then consider your errand complete, and get out of my classroom." Despite the words, the tone was not up to his usual sharp standard. Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder, the smile morphing into a grin as she stepped out into the corridor.

When she was gone at last, the professor was completely still. If Hermione had had the sense to maintain her spot on the other side of the desk, even she in all her considerable intelligence would have been hard pressed to put a name to the emotions - now completely unmasked - that flitted over the dark man's face. At first, anger and disgust reigned supreme over his pinched features. Then his eyes shifted from some unseen spot on the wall to the spot on the floor where the bushy-haired student had so recently stood, and his face softened first into resignation, then shifted into guilt followed by chagrin and then something that could only best be described as a slight smile.

Granted, it was a foreign expression for Snape's sallow appearance, and the muscles were so little used as to still be stiff, but it was a smile - albeit a slightly awkward one. He must have become conscious of the unusual expression, for he raised one hand to rub across the pointed chin, prodding at the thin upturned lips with a slight sense of wonder.

Silence and a strange feeling of...something new and previously unexplored were his companions for the lunch hour. All thanks to that nuisance of a sixth-year Gryffindor and her odd compulsion to express gratitude. Another snort of disbelief finally escaped his lips, and he turned back into his private office for the remains of the sandwich he had previously abandoned.

Gratitude indeed.


End file.
